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Penetrations from a world of shit.

the thoughts become perilous and disjointed when recalling a past remark, the feeling lingers, but the memory takes away the blame that conflict helps create… there are always other opportunities to care about, those twisted deleterious contortions sacrificing one soul for another, but utilized in carving away pieces of the screaming head that craves the wasted end… fodder to fill the mouth of the vengeful deity, the soldiers and righteous heroes under sway of realpolitik tyrants, stuck in the rancid randomized life… everyone has their own gimmick, whether balls to the skull, or subtle conniving strengths to overcompensate for terrible weakness… the universal basis for our system of degeneration is failure, this state is going from the bottom up truly, and there are many who wish it these sentient creatures never achieve a position above failure… we take a stab in the dark to find something more than this, and many more means to get hold of your own personal destiny than at first it would seem, we all get sidetracked by our variously designed training… the beasts are tempted by every other shit fire in the stormy weather of this pre-apocalypse… the distraction becomes too much to bare for the varying degrees of perspective in the out there… no one person can ever remedy every other ailment within this human body politic subverting essential reality… doctrines of all manner and sort passed down from authorities on high, but these proclamations are still man made, used to further tie and bind the populations that have allowed themselves be lead by impostors… from the presidents of false precious demeanor, puppets from the bankrupt well of souls, to the dictators with their military savvy to conquer with war on their wet brains… the blood drips in discriminate drops, that with thick sounds, thud upon deaf ears selectively hearing what they have been meant to hear… a dislocation from spine and forefinger as buttons are getting pushed down every day, to frown and dismay in the wake of their bombs displayed, and ringing with praise as thin membranous threshold flies away… the god awful drags the humanity phase through the mud of simple convention, a grouped demonstration of the mad limits of power for the mysterious interpretations of the intellectual side, but disguised by the blatant misdirection to create an atmosphere of panic and manipulation… the veil designed to eliminate confronting our worst sides of self, made to describe the many things with metaphor and analogy on the other side of this “god wall”, and Here we are still straining and staining the ground to hold us all together… the weight of our pressures on each other and one another crushing, squeezing the spirit from our bones as we gather the momentum necessary to break through this self-imposed ‘fuck-it-all’ attitude… this is where we happen to need to seek a difference in our natural way learned to interpret this land of escapes, the preconceived attention is there in the form insight and lesson, but is there ever really anyone there to reinforce those impressions?… i think our ideas are very limited about ourselves, but we rely on these ‘bass awkward’ ways to eat and digest what we perceive, as the individual grows and progresses from the merely animal to the heavily misunderstood actual human being… sometimes we do not understand the thing that we are until there is no other way of seeing the situation, and we crave the esteem of our fellow beings, though there is never a guarantee that they will accept your skills and talents with the rest of us… the dreams of the dying pacifist are quite violent in their vibrant visuals of peaceful hoping… where are we now?…

Thanks, khet.